Heroes
by Gold
Summary: The night before the Final Day, Kamui and Fuuma meet...by chance?...and talk. Spoilers for X17 , including the side story of Fuuma and Kamui.


© Copyright 2002 Gold.

Disclaimer: Characters have been borrowed from CLAMP manga and anime Tokyo Babylon and X/1999. The song is "Wish We Were Heroes" by Melissa Manchester and David Gates.

**Warning: spoilers for the side story of Fuuma and Kamui, featured in X-17.**

Title: Heroes

_Somewhere down the line   
We found the riddle and the rhyme   
Like two notes fade out of time   
Now we don't feel as whole... no no   
_

Sunset.

The sun was poised just above the horizon, a perfectly round red moon that was easy to look at with the naked eye. The sky was a surprisingly pale and clear blue around it, washed over with tones of faint rose, gold and orange. A flock of birds, too distant to be clearly identified, circled the sky and the path of their flight seemed to take a detour around the sun before vanishing into the distance. 

Sunset in Ueno Park. 

Much of Tokyo was crumbling, its beauty in ruins, but the majority of the park still stood, proud and majestic and oddly calm in the face of such complete and ruthless destruction. And tallest, proudest and most majestic of all was the largest cherry tree in Ueno Park. It should have been famed for its beauty, but people somehow just missed seeing the spot where it was located. A high-level onmyouji would have told you that it was because there was a magical boundary that kept away the presence of those who were unwanted. It would take a very high-level onmyouji indeed to recognise that…and to ignore it, or to be completely unaware of it.

Under the shade of those branches stood a boy. He was small and very thin, and from the back, he looked no more than twelve, perhaps. But if one could see his face—he was no more than sixteen, truly, but the enormous, darkly-lashed violet eyes that sat in his white face spoke of more pain and misery than anyone who was sixteen had the right to go through. There were many like him all over the world—children who never live their childhood and grow up all at once without even understanding what it means to grow up. And in company with so many of them, he had that peculiar aura of innocence, which the ravages of the world cannot erase, and which so few of these children ultimately retain.

_Somehow through the years   
We let the laughter turn to tears   
And all those feelings weren't so clear   
Just aren't here anymore... anymore   
And sometimes, I...   
  
___

The boy with the violet eyes looked up into the branches of the cherry blossom tree. It was a beautiful tree, and it was not as threatening as he had thought it might be. Instead, it seemed to exude a kind of old, patient calm. He had been standing there for about five minutes, and there was a faintly hopeful look on his face. He seemed to be waiting…for someone. 

But the presence behind him was not the one he had hoped for.

Shirou Kamui spun around, fists clenched automatically. 

The tall, devastatingly handsome youth who stood behind him was clothed all in black, from the double-breasted coat to the shirt/vest/whatever he wore within, right down to his shoes. His face, which Shirou Kamui was used to seeing set in hard lines—so much so that the smaller boy had forgotten, almost, just what the taller boy's face had looked like when friendly—was emotionless, and somehow seemed softer. He was not wearing his dark-tinted glasses.

"Fuuma!" gasped Kamui involuntarily, blood rushing to his cheeks. Could it be? Fuuma—come back to him? He took a step forward, hands stretched out.  

But he saw the next moment that he had been wrong. The face was Fuuma's, and so was the body, but the eyes—the eyes that looked at him were so calm they were practically blank. And those eternal, dark-tinted glasses hung from Fuuma's fingertips. 

Kamui braced himself silently, his heart aching as the taller boy drew closer, still looking at him with those eyes, so similar to the ones Kamui remembered from the past, and yet so different. 

  
W_ish we were heroes in the setting sun   
Ride off together when the story's done   
No sad goodbyes, no alibis... just   
Two heroes waving from the back of a train   
Two heroes never feeling all of the pain   
Heartbreak in rending   
Of knowing the ending is here   
And it's time for goodbye   
But so much for heroes   
We could never be heroes   
Because heroes don't cry   
  
_

But the Dark Kamui, who had been Monou Fuuma, made no sudden or threatening move. Instead, he turned his gaze from Kamui to the tree. He said nothing about Kamui calling him "Fuuma"—which he usually did—but said something completely different.

"You were waiting for Sumeragi Subaru." 

A slight blush tinted Kamui's pale cheeks and he looked away.

Monou Fuuma glanced at him once, sharply, and noted the blush. A faint whisper of heartache, of an old memory, locked away because of destiny…His gaze narrowed slightly and his fingers tightened their grip on the dark-tinted glasses, but he held his tongue. It would not do for the other to guess. Not when tomorrow was on its way.

There was another tension-filled silence. 

"Are you going to…fight me?" whispered Kamui bitterly, breaking the silence. He hated himself for the words as soon as they left his mouth, knowing that the Dark Kamui would laugh at him. It did not strike him that he was beginning to think of this boy, not as Monou Fuuma, but as Dark Kamui.

"No," answered Fuuma quietly, and without hesitation. "Not tonight."

Kamui caught his breath at the familiar tone. His face flushed. 

Softly, he spoke, afraid to disturb the strange whatever-it-was that hung between him…and Fuuma.

"Do you…do you remember what day it is today?"

_Someone used to say   
Love is a wind that goes astray   
Stirs the heart, then blows away   
Oh, but who's to say what makes it go   
But you know, I...   
  
_

He shot a quick, tentative look at Fuuma, but the other boy's face was now turned to the setting sun, his perfect profile a silhouette in the smaller boy's eyes, and Kamui could not see the expression on his face. But Fuuma did not reply, and his face did not change, and when the silence stretched, Kamui looked down. His fringe of untidy black hair swept across his face, hiding the violet eyes. 

"We met for the first time…" Kamui's voice was low and dreamy. "It was raining, and I was outside your home, and there was this puppy. It was so wet, you know? And it was shivering, and it looked—so lonely—" Kamui's voice faltered and nearly broke on the word "lonely", but he ploughed valiantly on. "…and I didn't know what to do with it…and then you came along…"

Fuuma had come along, and he had listened to the little Kamui's story about the dog. And he had seen how lonely Kamui looked, and he had gently suggested that Kamui take the puppy home, and Kamui had looked up at him with those huge violet eyes, and whispered why he could not bear to take the puppy home—because he moved so much, from place to place, and the little puppy would have to be left behind when he next moved. Kamui…didn't want the puppy to be hurt when he left…

To Kamui, Fuuma was like an Angel sent by the gods. Although evidently only a little older than Kamui himself, Fuuma exuded a very comforting, steady presence that had drawn Kamui to him from the beginning. And when the older boy had scooped up the wet puppy in his arms and caught hold of Kamui's hand with an inviting, friendly smile—Shirou Kamui's heart was won.

Days later, Fuuma had returned home to find that his family had visitors—his mother's old friend and her son. Fuuma had exclaimed at the sight of Kamui, and his mother had been surprised. 

"You know him?" 

Fuuma had simply smiled. "He's my friend!"

That one word "friend" had cemented Kamui's loyalty to Fuuma for life. Nobody had ever offered friendship so completely and immediately to Shirou Kamui before…

"…you called me your friend," recalled Kamui in a wondering tone. "Your _friend…" He fell silent._

It was not an oppressive silence. The sun had almost sunk below the horizon by now and evening light cast its shroud over the park, and the shadows were long. Still the two boys stood beneath the sakura tree.

_Wish we were heroes in the setting sun   
Ride off together when the story's done   
No sad goodbyes, no alibis... just   
Two heroes waving from the back of a train   
Two heroes never feeling all of the pain   
Heartbreak in rending   
Of knowing the ending is here   
And it's time for goodbye   
But so much for heroes   
We could never be heroes   
Because heroes don't cry   
  
_

Kamui glanced at the taller boy beside him, studying the handsome profile surreptitiously. Something stirred within him. "I wish…I wish we could walk away from this together, Fuuma," said Kamui suddenly and fiercely. "Go back to—the way it was."

Fuuma's chest rose and fell very slowly, in line with a small sigh Kamui nearly missed hearing. "But we can't," he said simply, in a reasonable tone, and Kamui couldn't decide if it was his friend or the Dark Kamui speaking.

Fuuma held up a palm and watched as sakura petals and leaves floated down, brushing against his fingers. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and grave. "We can never go back to the way things were. What's done is done…" His voice trailed off for a moment before he resumed speaking. "And you and I have our destinies to fulfil. It has to be this way." He turned to fix his eyes on Kamui. _Only one of us can walk away from this. Then he calmly slid two fingers under Kamui's chin and lifted the boy's face._

Kamui drew a sharp breath and his jaw tensed. He bit his lip under the searching gaze and blushed deeply, but he did not avert his eyes. It was different this time—different from those other times. Fuuma's gaze was grave and quiet, very different from the cold and deliberate one Kamui was used to, and something seemed to blaze behind the grave veil that was over those eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if Fuuma bent towards him—

"You have not yet found your Wish," Fuuma stated flatly, letting go of Kamui suddenly.

Suddenly the chasm between them was there, and they were universes apart again, each poised on the cusp of a new beginning—or ending.

"I only want to protect you," said Kamui, half-defiantly. He wondered at the sudden courage he had, to argue with the Dark Kamui.

Fuuma shrugged. "That's not your true Wish. And until you find it, you can't defeat me."

"Do you know what my true Wish is, then?" challenged Kamui.

Fuuma's gaze was unreadable and he seemed to be studying Kamui intently before he answered. "No."

For some reason, that word seemed to strike at Kamui's very core. Kamui's shoulders slumped and his head bowed. He stared at the ground, choking back the tears. His Wish. His Wish was to protect Kotori and Fuuma. He had sworn to himself that he would never, ever let anything happen to them. Kotori was gone, but Fuuma—Fuuma was still around. But Fuuma…Fuuma had forgotten him. If Fuuma could think that it was not Kamui's true Wish, then Fuuma had forgotten completely.

"I remember nothing."

Stunned, Kamui lifted his head to look at the other boy.

But he was alone. 

_Fuuma…I wish you would remember us…_

Down in Ueno Park, under a beautiful sakura tree, a boy with violet eyes wept, but something shone in his eyes—a gleam of hope. Perhaps, after all, he had found his true Wish.

_And sometimes, I wish we were heroes in the setting sun   
Ride off together when the story's done (ride off together)   
Two heroes waving from the back of a train   
Two heroes never feeling all of the pain   
  
___

But far in the distance, a boy in a black, double-breasted trenchcoat walked on. There was a faint smile on his lips, and his dark eyes were as keen as ever behind those dark-tinted glasses. And as he passed under the street lamps, the light danced off his eyelashes, and it seemed that they caught the light and sparkled with suspicious wetness. 

_But sometimes, I wish we were heroes in the setting sun (ride off together)   
Ride off together when the story's done (wish we were heroes)   
Two heroes waving from the back of a train   
Two heroes never feeling all of the pain___


End file.
